


Vida y Muerte

by supercalvin



Series: 13 Nights of Halloween [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Day of the Dead, M/M, Post-Episode: s05e13 The Diamond of the Day, Post-Finale, Samhain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 14:31:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2511092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercalvin/pseuds/supercalvin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s some year in the late twentieth century and Merlin’s travels find him in México.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vida y Muerte

It’s some year in the late twentieth century and Merlin’s travels find him in México.

The locals there make fun of his Castellan Spanish (especially because he hasn’t used any type of Spanish in a couple hundred years) but it doesn’t take longer than a month for him to learn that region’s phrases and way of speaking. He lives in a tiny apartment, but it doesn’t seem small to him. He may have lived in a castle for ten years, but he grew up in a village hut and he’s travelled all over the world essentially without a home.

He walks down to the local markets, meets with people who know him now. They wonder why he’s here because he’s obviously not local and he doesn’t seem to have any business or family around. He tells them that he’s a traveler, that it’s his job to look at the world. They think he’s a reporter, and Merlin thinks that isn’t too far off. Eventually he’ll need to report all his findings to one person in particular.

He’s been there for about two months when everyone starts talking about the upcoming celebrations. Merlin’s seen and participated in hundreds of holidays and festivals and all of them were worth going to.

“It’s not fun without family and friends around you.” Maria was saying as she worked on some sort of sugar candy. Merlin was helping her in the shop. Right now he was only watching her decorate the skulls as the _pan de muerto_ baked. “Join my family. You’re a friend after all.”

Merlin had never thought of mourning as fun but he respected and was starting to love the way Maria talked about Día de Los Muertos.

“Do you have anyone to make an _ofrenda_ for?” She asked, looking shy as she asked the personal question. She looked up from her icing for a moment.

Merlin gave her a half smile. He had more than enough friends who he could celebrate their lives and deaths. Too many, in fact.

“Yes” was what he said instead.

“I wasn’t sure. You’re so young.” She said. Maria wasn’t exactly old either, but Merlin was over a thousand years her elder. Unfortunately his guise of a twenty-something year old didn’t tell her that. “Their graves are probably not here, but you can put your _ofrendas_ near my family’s graves. My parents and _abuela_ wouldn’t mind.”

She said that she would show him around during the celebrations, except for during the parade. She was meeting up with some friends to walk in the parade, her face covered in colorful makeup. Merlin said he would love to join her.

The _ofrendas_ were put up a couple days before the celebrations and Merlin could feel Samhain in the air, how close the spirits were to the world of the living.

Merlin made two altars. He told himself that that was his limit: one for the first day and another for the second.

On November the first Merlin celebrated with everyone. He went to the first _ofrenda_ and silently mourned before the celebration. He saw families bring food and flowers to the graves of children as mothers softly cried.

The older man named Francisco had helped Merlin set up the _ofrendas_. He asked after the deceased, but it wasn’t like the usual way people asked after dead loved ones. He asked who they were to Merlin, but also about their lives and what they were like.

Merlin gestured to the small altar in front of him. It’s covered in simple candles and small rose buds. “This one is for a young girl. Her name was Freya.” Merlin sets down a box full of strawberries.

He almost feels like he was back at that lake near the mountains, feeling Freya’s injured body in his arms. The veil between the worlds is thin and he can feel her presence as she skims over the strawberries and roses, softly smiling at Merlin.

On November the second Merlin visits the second, larger ofrenda.

Sometimes it feels like he has been mourning for his entire existence and other times he feels like he’s just on another adventure. Every once and a while it feels like he’s impatiently waiting for Arthur, as if he has taken too long in the bath and Merlin has better things to do than wait around.

Most of the time it’s lonely.

Merlin had come to peace with Arthur’s death a long time ago. He had to in order to get out of bed every morning for the past millennium. He has accepted his and Arthur’s destiny.

He has mourned Arthur several times, in several different places with various traditions. Mourning had never been this way though. He has remembered Arthur in life in the way that made his heart ache, but he never celebrated Arthur’s life. Of course he celebrated Arthur’s _life_ : his victories and his goodness, but he never celebrated the little things.

Merlin set out Arthur’s favorite mulled wine along with his favorite chicken and sweets. He surprised himself when he laughed at the thought of Arthur eating. It was such an absurd thought. He hadn’t thought of just serving Arthur food in all this time. The way Arthur genuinely liked food and encouraged Merlin to sit and eat with him.

Merlin set down a collection of wildflowers because he knew Arthur liked them better. They were the same kind he had found in the woods near Camelot. He covered the _ofrenda_ in candles and incense. Merlin wasn’t sure why, but it smelt like the polish he used when polishing armor and the soap he used to clean clothes.

“Who were they?” Maria was behind him, startling him. He was on his knees in front of the altar, smiling at the memories. It might have been the first time since he smiled when he thought about Arthur.

“His name was Arthur.” Merlin said. “He was my closest friend.”

Maria sat down next to him, her colorful skirts pooling on the ground. “What was he like?”

Merlin smiled at her. “He was an ass.” She laughed at him. “I worked for him and I had to do all these little chores for him. It was my job, but I still gave him grief about it.”

Merlin pointed to the sweets he had made by hand that day. “He used to eat those all the time. He pretended he didn’t like them that much, but he would eat all of them. I told him he was going to get fat.” Merlin shook his head at the memories.

“Do you have a photo of him?” Maria asked.

Merlin was surprised by the question, forgetting that Maria didn’t know he lived in a time when getting a portrait painted was rare. Merlin turned his eyes away so she wouldn’t see the gold and pulled a photo from his pocket. He wondered if it would look like Arthur at all.

Arthur was smiling one of his big grins. He was only in his simple red shirt, without his chainmail, and looking the way he did after he made a bad joke and Merlin refused to laugh. He looked young and happy. Merlin hadn’t thought about this Arthur in a long time.

“He was very handsome.” Maria said. “He looks happy.”

Merlin set the fake photo onto the altar. “I miss him a lot.”

“Well he is here with you today.”

And that’s what Merlin loved about this celebration. Death was a part of life, and no one knew that better than Merlin. On these days, The Dead were amongst the living and Merlin was able to think about his friends without mourning them.

Before she left, she blessed Arthur and hoped he rested in peace, before she pressed a kiss to Merlin’s cheek and told him to come by later and get some food.

Merlin picked up the photo and Arthur moved for a second, looking straight at Merlin, his smile softening to something more sincere and content. The sweets disappeared and the mulled wine emptied. Merlin felt tears run down his cheeks but they were more from laughing than mourning.

“You’ll get fat in the afterlife, you prat.”

Merlin could faintly hear a scoff and a protest before a cool breeze swirled through the cemetery.

**Author's Note:**

> The photo is La Calavera Catrina by José Guadalupe Posada.  
> November 1st is usually Día de los Inocentes, a day to mourn children.  
> November 2nd is usually to mourn adults.


End file.
